Greetings!
Y'all are awesome! Thank you so much for the continued support and feedback on this project!
I'll be honest with you wonderful, faithful readers: Life got in the way. Big time. I'm not happy with how long this one took to get out, and I imagine you feel likewise. I know I said I'd try to stop apologizing, but I feel that it's necessary here. I'm sorry.
Between an increasingly hectic production schedule at the factory starting in December of last year and catching COVID out of freaking nowhere in mid-January, much of my writing momentum came to a crawl. I hate that it did, but it did, and it doesn't look like things will let up soon, so please bear with me on these long delays.
Alright, let's get on with the chapter.
Disclaimer: I do not own High School DxD, nor do I own Type Moon, any of its intellectual properties, or any other property used in this work.
Published: April 1, 2022
Updated: March 16, 2023
…
Chapter 12 – Social Call
The last rays of light cast by the sun were beginning to fade away, ever gradually replaced by those of numerous stalls and stores in Kuoh Town's market district. Kuoh was always busy in springtime, being the largest populated town in its midland prefecture, so there were plenty of people coming and going on a regular basis, and there was always something to do.
Unfortunately for Connor, he didn't have time tonight to enjoy the nightlife. Dressed in his preferred casual attire of jeans, t-shirt and tennis shoes, he weaved his way through the streets of Kuoh at a steady pace, not stopping even to chat with the neighborly locals.
Tobio had originally said to meet with him at the usual time on Sunday, only to call him again Friday afternoon to tell him that there was a change of plan that required him to come that night without argument. He'd hung up before Connor could even ask what was going on, leaving the magus once more confused and frustrated, and just a little bit worried.
Connor turned the corner that led to Nomura's, right at 6:00 P.M., and found Tobio standing outside the restaurant. When the agent noticed him, he didn't make any change to his stoic expression.
"Good, there you are. Come on." He intercepted Connor's questions and began to walk briskly away, *prompting the magus to have to hustle to keep up. The journey took the two out of the market district's central plaza and into the more sparsely populated eastern side.
"Security around Kuoh has gotten tighter all of a sudden, and I've seen more than usual of the Devils' familiars patrolling town throughout the day. There's at least one in Nomura's right now. Sitri is taking things seriously, and that's leaving us with fewer windows of time to talk."
Connor glanced behind them as they walked. He tried to seem casual about it, but Tobio's clipped tone had put him on edge. Sona was already forced to double down on her governorship duties while Rias was away, and in the wake of Wednesday night's battle with the undead beast, she was likely tripling down and pushing everyone in her group harder than before. His left hand reached into his pocket to jostle the runestones inside, allowing the muted clatter to provide their familiar reassurance.
Eventually, the two happened upon a darkened alleyway between a couple of tall buildings and ducked inside. Tobio directed the magus behind a corner, then crossed his arms and leaned against a wall, putting himself between Connor and the way back to the street.
"The shadows should cover us here, as long as we keep it down. Now, you were saying?"
Connor lightly exhaled through his nose. "Why did you even tell her about me? It's not my business anymore, I didn't even rescue her."
"Not directly, but you did play a part in that. I wouldn't have known she was even in that church if it wasn't for you."
"Don't pretend like you or Jin couldn't have handled everything by yourselves without anyone being the wiser. Hell, if you knew Asia was coming to Kuoh, you could've easily taken her to your boss straight away. Save everyone the trouble."
Tobio shrugged. "Well, sure, but then we wouldn't have known that there was a second victim until it was too late, and the whole idea of catching someone in the act of betrayal is to catch them in the act. If I'd moved too preemptively, she'd be dead, and we wouldn't have the proof of sedition that we do now."
"I'm sure the dhampir completely understands. Speaking of which, why even entertain this request of hers? I get that you guys are trying to curry favor with her because she has the Holy Grail and all that crap, but why? Why not just tell her that I went off the grid or something and can't be reached?"
"Because she was very specific about it. She doesn't want to read a note or listen to a message or speak to a face on a screen, she wants to talk with a real person."
"Well, we can't all be that lucky," Connor snarked. "And just in case you haven't been paying attention, I'm not exactly in a position to be traveling."
"I'm aware, which is why I'm going to teleport us there, if you agree to go. Quick and easy, there and back in no time. She's still not in any condition to be leaving the facility we have her in, and with her Gear being what it is, the Grigori isn't going to let her go anywhere unguarded." Tobio paused to steal a glance out the alleyway. "She slipped under the radar once, but it won't happen again."
Connor stared at Tobio, the pros and cons teetering back and forth in a mental tug-of-war while the agent simply returned the gaze and waited.
Whatever the Grigori's motivations for going along with this, he had no reason to oblige. He'd finished the job (two, in fact), got his payment, and went on his way. This constant roping of him into their problems was getting really old, and it made Connor wonder if they actually planned on doing anything to him if he didn't comply. With how persistent Tobio and the Grigori had been in pestering him with odd jobs over the last few weeks, there was no guarantee that they wouldn't just try again later with something as relatively harmless as a visitation once things had settled down.
Also, despite the agent's claim, teleportation was not as simple as one might believe. For it to work, an anchor, a sufficiently powered magic circle and a lifeline were all needed to open a dimensional gate that would allow for instantaneous transport and provide a safe way back if something went wrong. Failure on any of these parts mid-spell typically resulted in dismemberment or bifurcation as the connected realms separated.
That said, here was no way the agent wasn't aware of the dangers of teleportation. which meant there was a good chance he had already laid down the groundwork for a safe transit.
In the time since their first meeting, Connor had come to understand that he and Tobio were two minds of the same kind. Their origins couldn't have been more different, and their current priorities were as far apart as night and day, but he could actually picture himself in Tobio's place and following the same path if their roles had been reversed.
Connor didn't trust Azazel, nor did he fully trust Tobio, for that matter. What he did trust was Tobio's ardent sense of loyalty. The agent had been nothing but straight with him so far, and he was too loyal to Azazel to go behind his back or commit to action without the man's approval. The latter fact alone meant that there had to be some legitimacy to the request, regardless of whoever else might have allowed Tobio to go through with it.
For this reason, Connor had decided against using his Mystic Eyes as a lie detector and instead abide by his own judgment. Even so, he pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering if he was going to regret this decision later.
"Alright. When do we leave?"
"Right now."
Tobio unhooked one arm from the other and lightly pressed his hand against the wall of the building. There was a hum and a brief flash of light, and then all was quiet again. Connor blinked twice, then looked around them, eyes widening.
Gone were the contemporary wood and concrete buildings, the precisely laid bricks and comforting narrowness of the market streets, as well as the vivid colors from lights and marquees advertising the daily specials. Instead, he was greeted by every neutral color on the palette, but mostly gray interspersed with glass and steel. Standing before him now was a sprawling complex built of architectural glass with cinder blocks slathered in stucco and then capped with Spanish style terracotta tile roofs in burnt sienna hues.
Additionally, the temperature was significantly cooler than the warm evening air from before, and the sun was shining down from a cloudless sky. It had to have been mid-morning as opposed to sunset.
A sensation of vulnerability swept through Connor. Before, he could count on the storefronts and apartments to provide a measure of shelter and escape into the crowd. Here, though, it seemed almost impossible to assess for threats with so much open space at one time.
He looked around to check for witnesses to their arrival, but there was hardly anybody to see them. Even then, the few that he could find didn't seem to notice them. He then checked his phone, and found that the time now read a whole seven hour difference from what it would have displayed mere moments ago!
The magus stood in place for several seconds, trying to overcome his astonishment at being transported halfway across the world in the time it took to blink.
"Nice place," he finally said.
"I personally don't care for it," Tobio dismissed. "This actually used to be among the smaller of the Hirslanden Group's hospitals here in Zürich, but when they constructed a bigger facility across the lake, the Grigori negotiated for a… minor change of management at this one."
"Zürich? So we're in Switzerland? How secure is it here?"
"Enough to provide a safe haven for Sacred Gear users. Come on, we'll get this done, and I'll get you back to Kuoh in time for dinner." He didn't wait for a reply and strode toward the facility. With little choice at this point, Connor followed.
As the two humans entered the main lobby, Connor felt the temperature drop slightly. Nothing out of place for a hospital, since they were typically kept colder than the outside world for a number of reasons, but he also felt a rather constrictive change in air pressure. A barrier, he surmised. Not unlike his own Bounded Fields, and probably keyed to ward off any unsavory supernatural species, with the exception of Fallen. At least the security aspect checked out.
He followed the agent to the reception desk and, to his surprise, Connor recognized the person seated behind it. It was a familiar woman, fair-skinned with long, blue hair that was mostly done into a tail that fell down the length of her back. She was dressed in a dark blue business suit, the white blouse being left unbuttoned at the top to reveal a thin gold necklace at the base of her throat.
Hearing someone approach, the woman gave a professional, albeit fake, smile.
"May I help y-" She started, but when her eyes met Connor's, her smile dropped and she threw up her hands with a irritated groan. "Oh, for… why're you here?!"
'Such a warm reception,' he held himself from saying. 'I think I'm starting to sweat.'
"Well, I'm… absolutely thrilled to see you, too, Kalawarner."
The bluenette Fallen scowled. "Don't use my name like we know each other. I'll ask again: why are you here?"
"He's here because a patient of ours requested him, Miss Kalawarner," Tobio interceded.
"The little vampire girl?" Her gaze shifted to Connor. "You helped with that?"
He shrugged. "In whatever small capacity."
"Uh-huh. Am I to assume that you've been drafted into the Grigori now?"
"Funny how that's your first assumption, but no, I'm not. At least, I don't think so. Azazel didn't kill me when we first met, so I'm guessing he's not sore about Dohnaseek."
"Yeah, don't let it go to your head," she warned. "You're only as interesting to Lord Azazel as the next human in line. He gets a new one every year or so."
"I see. Alright, well, thanks for the advise. I feel so much better now." His quip, marinated in sarcasm, was met with a blank stare. "So, what about you? How'd you end up behind a desk instead of bars?"
"I cut a deal for a lighter sentence, so now I'm off active duty until further notice." As she talked, she arranged some documents and fished something out of a desk drawer. "It's boring, but it's better than what happened to the other two. Since it was by Raynare's direction that things went the way they did, and Mittelt simply went along with it, they got the worst punishment: dishonorable discharge and quality time in the bird cage."
"Wait, in the what?"
"The bird cage is Fallen lingo for what's essentially high security prison," Tobio explained. "Whatever rank or title a Fallen might have is stripped once they enter, and they're forbidden to fly for the duration of their stay."
"It's an egregious insult to any of our kind," Kalawarner added. "But, for those whose actions threaten the Grigori, it's deserved."
"You would've gotten that yourself if you hadn't blown the whistle. Why didn't you try to do it earlier before things got out of hand?"
"I did try, but Dohnaseek got in the way. He had good connections, and he threatened to pin the blame for the whole op on me if I talked, claim that it was my idea. Lucky for me, Raynare and Mittelt didn't hear that conversation, and he made the mistake of not telling them about it. As a result, when you killed him, you gave me a chance to stop that whole farce right then and there. In a way, I should be grateful to you for saving my career, even if unintentionally. So, thanks."
"You're… welcome?" If ever there was a backhanded 'thank-you' as that.
"Good enough. Anyway, if you're here for a visit, then don't let me keep you any longer." She reached up and set a visitor's badge on the counter in front of the magus. "You'll need this for the time that you're here. Stay with Tobio at all times; where he goes, you go. Otherwise, you'll be sent home in a shoe box. Got it?"
"Yeah. I got it." Connor took the piece of laminate and clipped it to his shirt.
Kalawarner didn't acknowledge. Without another word or glance, she got back to her other work.
Tobio motioned to follow, and the humans started toward a pair of elevators to the left of the reception desk. Once out of earshot, Connor lightly smirked.
"I think she likes me."
The agent made no verbal comment, though there was a smile on his face as he pressed the button to the right side of the large steel doors to call the lift. Almost immediately, said doors opened, allowing the two men to step inside. Tobio then pushed a button on the command panel labeled 'B3.'
'Keeping her underground, eh?'
"So, before I meet this VIP, is there anything of importance that I need to know about dhampirs?" the magus asked once the doors finished closing. Just as Tobio opened his mouth to reply, Connor felt the contents of his chest cavity lurch into his neck as the elevator began to descend.
"Well, as half human and half vampire, they have physical characteristics of both, like any other child. While eligible for a Sacred Gear bonding at birth due to their human side, with their vampire side, there are some substantial differences."
The floor indicator displayed B1 as the elevator passed the first sub-level.
"They can't shape-shift like normal vampires, but they can venture outside during the day without getting cooked by the sun. As far as blood is concerned, dhampirs don't rely on it like pure-blooded vampires do. It's a great form of sustenance to them, but they don't need it to survive."
B2.
"What about ghouls?" Connor received a confused glance at the question. "When vampires take blood, but don't necessarily kill their victim, that victim is turned into a ghoul. Is it the same for a dhampir?"
B3.
The elevator came to a smooth stop on the third sub-level, and the doors opened with a 'ding' to reveal a clean and pristine corridor with wooden doors lining both sides. Several people in lab coats and scrubs could be seen down the hallway a good distance; some were talking among themselves while others went about their business alone.
"I can't say for certain." Tobio stepped out of the elevator first, Connor close behind.
"That's very reassuring."
"Do you know how many dhampirs there are in the world?" Tobio asked flatly, keeping his voice low as the two passed by room after room as well as the occasional doctor or orderly. "Next to none, so there's not a lot of empirical data on them to begin with, let alone what they can do. I only know what I've told you because she told me as much when I first talked to her."
"Did she say anything about the Graal?"
"Not really. A sore subject, not that I can rightly blame her. At any rate, here we are." Tobio came to a stop before a room labeled '318.' Knocking lightly, the two heard someone beckon them from inside. He opened the door and held it, allowing for Connor to pass.
The magus had to blink, just to make sure that was he was seeing was real.
Seated on a hospital bed and dressed in white-and-light blue hospital gown was the half-dead woman that Tobio had carried into Asia's apartment on that eventful night. Her skin was pale, though a much healthier shade than he'd seen on her before, and the light blonde hair bordering on alabaster fell to the tops of her shoulders in waves. Red eyes alight with vibrant joy, a gentle smile graced her lips as she made eye contact with him and set down a book she'd been reading.
"Good morning," she softly greeted. "Are you Connor?"
The magus gave a polite nod but kept outside of arm's reach upon catching a glimpse of fangs.
"Yeah, and a good morning to you, too. If I seem a little jarred at the moment, please excuse me. I think I've got a mild case of teleportation lag."
"There's no such thing," Tobio remarked, stepping into the room.
"Well, I'm making it a thing."
"You two seem to get along pretty well," the woman said, letting out a small laugh.
"Yep, we're a regular Starsky and Hutch."
"He's lying. The dynamic is more like Riggs and Murtaugh," Connor dryly joked.
This time, Tobio started laughing while the woman slightly tilted her head in confusion.
"Movie reference, don't worry about it."
"Oh, alright. Well, I'm Valerie Tepes, and I'm very glad to meet you, Mr. Connor." She then trailed off, fidgeting slightly. "Umm… may I… May I talk with you for a bit? I wanted to give you my thanks for your help in saving me. Tobio told me that you were of great help to him."
"I can assure you that my role in those events is greatly exaggerated." He cast a glance to the agent, who was now innocently studying the ceiling. "Just out of curiosity, what else did he say about me?"
"He said that the two of you had worked together previously, but that getting in touch with you would take time. I assumed that you were undercover or something. Was… was that wrong?"
"Not entirely, but the situation was delicate. Had to be careful." Connor pulled up a chair beside the bed. "If you don't mind me asking, how exactly did you end up in Kuoh? By which I mean, how did the exorcists get a hold of you?"
Pensively at first, Valerie regaled them with her story. She had run away from home, along with a friend she called Gasper, to escape the cruelties of her more pure-blooded family, only to run into a group of vampire hunters that quickly and mercilessly cut down her fellow escapee. Just as they were about to kill her, too, one of their own stopped them, claiming to sense something powerful emanating from her.
She was taken alive and kept in a cage for several days before her power was identified as the Sephiroth Graal, after which she was sold repeatedly to different people for increasing fortunes. Eventually, she wound up in the hands of Stray Exorcists who, despite their seeming association to the Grigori, had partaken in enough dirty dealings to more or less make them a band of vagabonds and murderers for hire.
Beatings and abuse from all of her captors were a regular occurrence, though none of it was sexual in nature, and because the Graal would always heal her like nothing happened, the weeks of captivity blurred together for her.
This group of Strays then brought her to Japan where a ritual was supposedly underway to extract the Sacred Gear from another person being sent that way. She remembered the heated arguments that ensued when their group arrived to find nobody else at the rendezvous point, not even another exorcist. Numerous fights and compromises later, and they decided to attempt the ritual themselves.
At this point, Tobio connected the events and tied Valerie's testimony to the arrival of the new exorcists in Kuoh along with what he'd witnessed in the church's basement. All the while, Connor listened and processed everything he heard, putting the story together.
"I held on for as long as I could for just one more chance at freedom, but without Gasper, I didn't have any reason to continue existing; ultimately, I had given up hope on even staying alive. Death no longer scared me. I just wanted it all to end, to make the pain stop."
"Do you regret being saved?" Connor asked.
She shook her head. "At first, yes, but… not now. Everyone here has been nothing but courteous and patient. I've been treated far better here than I ever was in Romania."
Connor could tell that she was fully aware of the reason for that. The Grigori's interest was far more for the Graal than it ever could be for her as a dhampir. Treating her with respect was just the simplest way of engendering goodwill between them, whilst dissuading thoughts of escape. Considering her life thus far, it was certainly an effective tactic. And even if not everyone in Grigori went along with it, for one reason or another, those who didn't want to get involved would just leave well enough alone.
"So I'll just take things one day at a time and see where I am by the end of them. At least here, I have the chance to do that." Valerie's previous melancholy faded, and the light in her eyes returned. "And I just wanted you to know that everything's okay, so, thank you."
She held out her hand to him, asking for a shake. There was an awkward moment where Connor didn't take it, merely staring at the hand before he decided to oblige. What was the harm, he thought. He placed his right hand in her own and lightly grasped, silently marveling at the almost silken feel of her skin.
Then, his vision began to flicker, as if he was looking at the room through an old TV suffering from interference. The flicker stopped and started several times, until the world around him completely cut out, and his senses seemed to vanish as well. He could no longer feel or hear anything, but his sight remained. At least, he supposed that it did. With what he was seeing, however, he couldn't be entirely sure of that.
An empty darkness surrounded him, and looming over him was a large orb of some kind, with deep blue flames rolling across its surface, reminding him of a burning star. Two large bands of light surrounded it; these bands rotated concentrically around the orb and spun at differing rates, evidenced by the brighter flecks that he could see in them.
Suddenly, the orb and bands disappeared, and the magus found himself back in the hospital room, his hand still clutching Valerie's. No sooner had the image cut from his mind and his senses came back to reality, than the back of his hand erupted with a hot, searing pain.
"Kgah! AAGH!"
With a startled cry, Connor abruptly pulled away, stumbling back, his teeth tightly clenched, with his left hand ferociously gripping his right wrist. Valerie's own hands had shot to her face and were now covering her mouth in alarm.
"Whoa, hey! What happened?!" Tobio sprang up between the two, looking to the dhampir first. "Valerie, what happened?"
"I– I don't kno–"
"What the hell is this?!"
Connor's exclamation drew their focus to him and, more emphatically, to his right hand and the blood red mark that had suddenly appeared on the back of it. The magus looked up at them, his eyes widened and his face turned ashen. Both Tobio and Valerie were stunned into silence at the sight.
After a few seconds of the three glancing back and forth between one another, Tobio made a rather meek suggestion.
"Uhh… I think we should… call this in."
The elevator door opened, allowing the sole male occupant to step out and adjust the collar of his suit. Instead of his favored casual outfit, he was dressed in his business professional attire: a dark blue long blazer with a lighter blue dress shirt and slacks, black waist coat with a red tie, and black dress shoes. Quite the contrast against the sea of white surrounded him.
He'd only been to this place a handful of times in the last few years. The first several were on business with the hospital up top, and the latest was just to make sure that the dhampir girl with the Sephiroth Graal was safe and squared away. Because it was more of an urgent care clinic than a legitimate research facility, there wasn't much of interest to him here. Just make an appearance, smile for the camera, then be on his way.
Matters related to Grigori bases across the world were typically handled by Shemhazai and his more immediate subordinates, anyway. Yet, if the old man in charge of this facility was willing to call for him directly, it had to be big. And it was a pretty safe bet what the cause was.
The man strode with purpose down the long corridor, passing by human doctors and Fallen along the way, though he paid them no heed. Many curiously watched him for a time before going back to their work. His eyes absently skimmed over the faces and the room numbers until he came upon the facility director, Tymael –a grizzled veteran that had served under him in the Great War– in a quiet discussion with two human doctors.
"Gentlemen?" he greeted expectantly, catching the attention of the three men.
"Lord Azazel." Both doctors bowed in respect. The Governor General held up a placating hand in return.
"Ease up, just tell me what happened."
"Yes, sir," the older of the two humans, a Dr. Hasler, responded. "We received a call through the nurse's station asking for help about twenty minutes ago. According to the nurse, the caller sounded calm but confused, so just myself and Dr. Baumann responded. When we entered, Mister Ikuse and his guest, one Connor Lochlainn, were standing beside Miss Tepes in her room."
'Yep! Called it!'
"Go on."
"We inquired about the problem, and Mister Ikuse informed us that Mister Lochlainn had a… reaction to physical contact with Miss Tepes. Mister Lochlainn then showed us a marking on his hand."
"Marking?"
"Some sort of deep red pattern on the back of his right hand. A well-defined pattern. Too much so for it to be a burn or a bruise. At first, we thought it was a tattoo, but he and Mister Ikuse insisted that it wasn't there when they arrived here." As Dr. Baumann explained, Tymael started writing and scribbling something onto a piece of paper.
"This is about where I was with things before I called you," Tymael stated, then handed Azazel a prescription note with a very crude drawing on its back.
Azazel studied the drawing, perplexed by the unnatural shapes. "And how did this happen? What kind of contact was it that caused this?"
"A handshake."
His mind hit the brakes with that, and he looked up.
"A… handshake?" Both doctors nodded, as did Tymael. "Was there anything else unusual?"
"No, sir. We ran all the basic checks on Mister Lochlainn and Miss Tepes, and they're both fine; temperature, heart rate, blood pressure, breathing – everything is nominal. There's nothing to suggest trauma or illness of any natural sort."
That very slight inflection from the word 'natural' told Azazel that Hasler had deduced what the next step would be in this case. The man then gave a subtle glance to the facility's director, who returned it with the faintest of nods.
"I see," Tymael said. "Thank you, gentlemen. We'll take it from here."
"Are you certain, sir?" Baumann asked.
"Yes, we'll be fine. Keep up the good work, gentlemen," Azazel reaffirmed.
Baumann looked apprehensive, but Hasler gave him a nudge and a pointed look that said to drop it. He'd been around long enough to know that once the Cadre got involved, matters regarding Sacred Gears were out of their hands. If they were needed, they would be called again.
"Then, we will take our leave, sir." Hasler quickly ushered his junior away to allow their leaders deliberate in peace.
Looking to his leader, Tymael observed the reminiscent smile on Azazel's lips as he regarded the drawing once more.
"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked, to which Azazel chuckled.
"Oh, I'm just marveling at Father's mysteries. We know so much and yet so little about them. No matter how hard we try, something always surprises us."
"Is that not what you enjoy the most about them?"
"Of course. Life would be boring if it were routine. So what do you think the Graal is up to?"
Tymael shook his head. "I really don't know. Practically every factor about this whole situation has never happened before. We could speculate all day and still be left scratching our heads."
"Yeah, and judging by my first meeting with the kid, he's not going to walk away without an answer. An answer that we can't give right now. However, I do know someone that might be able to help with this."
Azazel called forth a magic circle in his left hand, then brought it to his ear. He waited for a short while before a feminine voice echoed from the other side.
"Lord Azazel? It's not like you to call in the middle of the day. Shouldn't you be hunched over your researchers' shoulders as they poke and prod at your latest find?"
He smirked. "On a day ending in 'y,' yes, but something's come up, and I need the eyes of an expert."
"My ego is not so easily stoked, but you have my attention. What's going on?"
Impatiently, Connor now sat in a formerly empty exam room alongside Tobio while they waited.
Much like himself and Tobio, the doctors responding to Tobio's call were flummoxed by the mark adorning Connor's hand. A quick physical exam didn't reveal anything, as the discolored skin didn't exhibit any pain or irritation. After checking up on Valerie as well, he and Tobio were hastily ushered to a room where they could wait while the doctors talked with their superiors about their next course of action.
Very professional.
His face propped against his closed left fist, the magus lightly rapped his fingers of his right hand against his leg to distract himself from staring at the oddity now adorning it. Every five seconds or so, however, he would catch himself looking down at it again, and he could tell that Tobio was doing the same.
How strange of a pain, to suddenly feel like his hand was on fire, then vanish without any lingering sting. Then there was that… vision. What was that thing? And why did he get the sense that it was looking right at him?
Once more, Connor took in the mark's details, committing them to memory. Strangely, it looked rather similar to that orb and rings, with two circles that both surrounded a diamond in their mutual center. The circles had arrows pointing inward and outward at random places, the two largest of which pointed directly top and bottom, perfectly in line with the diamond's vertical points. (1)
For what had to have been the tenth time in as many minutes, he sent Od through his arm and into his hand. Just like the times before, he could feel something seemingly attached to one of the circuits in his hand sending the Od right back from whence it came. It was only for a split second, and it took Connor several attempts to pinpoint the new sensation. Applying Structural Grasp at the same time to watch the process in his mind showed him that what he was feeling was real, not that it alleviated his concern.
This anomaly had somehow commandeered the circuit, and was now cutting it off from the rest of his system. For what reason or how, he didn't know.
Before he could contemplate any further, the door opened. This time, it was not a new doctor or even the previous two who stepped in, but the Grigori's Governor General, dressed in the same dark suit he wore when Connor had first met him.
"Wow. Big boss himself comes down?"
"Yep, I'm always looking for something new," the Cadre said with a grin. "Mind if I have a look at this little accessory of yours?"
"Sure, might as well. Everyone else has." He tiredly held his arm upright with the back facing Azazel.
The man gave a curious tilt of his head and leaned in, putting a hand to his chin. Connor didn't know enough about him to know what exactly he was thinking, but the scrutinizing look he was giving the mark was not at all dissimilar to someone studying a painting.
"Is there no pain?"
"Just a brief flash. Like a quick half-second jab from a hot piece of metal, then nothing."
"And you got this from a handshake… That's pretty wild…" he mumbled before standing up straight again. "Well, kid, based on what the doctors have told me, there's nothing physically wrong with either you or Miss Tepes. The normal scans and tests have turned up nothing."
Connor was about to make a snarky comment, but held his tongue. "'Physically?'"
"Yeah. It's pretty obvious by now that, while you may have had a physical reaction, this thing is by no means a medical mystery. That's why I've called for someone who might be able to offer another perspective on this." He turned to look at the door. "Come on in."
The door opened once more, and a young woman sporting what could only be described as a stereotypical witch's garb walked gracefully into the room. On her head was a large, wide-brimmed hat, while her shapely body was dressed in a spellcaster's robe and cape, all of which were similarly colored light blue and stylized with white diamond patterns. The outfit's sleeves belled out at the elbows, and the hem was slit up to her left hip to reveal her long legs and thigh-high stockings.
In the instant she made eye contact with Connor, he took note of her gentle expression, long blonde hair flowing past her shoulders and the deepest sapphire irises he'd ever seen on a person. Her eyes coasted across the room's occupants until they landed on Tobio and brightened.
"Tobi, mi caro! It's so good to see you again!" The woman cried joyfully before bounding to the agent and taking him into a hug. The pointed hat she wore was pushed off her head as she pressed her cheek against Tobio's, but the younger man deftly caught it behind her back from underneath her arm.
Connor could tell from the lack of attention Tobio paid to the action that it was a practiced movement. He glanced to the Governor General, who was smirking.
"Hello, nee-san." Tobio lightly returned the woman's affection, then brought the hat up and set it back to its rightful place. "I'm happy to see you, too, but this will have to wait."
The woman pouted as she stood back. "Phooey, Tobi, don't be so stiff."
"Heh. Me, stiff? You should've seen this guy," Tobio gestured to the other young man in the room. "He's getting better, but when I first met him, you could paint him in bronze and call him a statue."
The woman turned her attention to Connor, looked him up and down briefly, and curtsied.
"Buongiorno, signore. I am Lavinia Reni. It is a pleasure to meet you."
"Little Miss Lavi here is the most senior member of Tobio's team, and my liaison to Grauzauberer," Azazel explained, crossing his arms. "She's one of their top three magicians, so I figured she might be able to shed a little light on what's going on with you."
"Don't call me 'senior,' Lord Azazel! It makes me sound old!" Lavinia whined.
At the mention of Grauzauberer, Connor straightened.
The Grey Wizards, as their name translated, was among the leading magician organizations in the supernatural world. Very powerful and very influential, they maintained a position of authority among their peers, yet kept their distance from political trappings and short-sighted agendas. Whereas their contemporaries and many that came after only lasted an average of several decades before dissolving, the Grauzauberer stood the test of time for more than five centuries.
Furthermore, the process of joining the order wasn't as simple as signing up in a recruitment drive. From what he understood, one needed be apprenticed to an already existing member, and the integration from there took years.
For this woman, barely into her twenties, to be at the top of the food chain was no small feat.
"Connor Lochlainn, the pleasure is mine." He returned the greeting with a small nod. There would be no more handshakes today.
"Now, Lord Azazel tells me that there was an accident of sorts that left a mark on you. May I see it, please?"
He held his hand out, symbols facing up, to which she she briefly examined before bringing her own hand to hover at the mark. A small magic circle appeared in the palm of her hand as she began chanting something in Latin, but he couldn't tell exactly what. Must have been her own form of Structural Grasp.
"Strange…" she remarked, ending the spell after about fifteen seconds.
"Yes?" Azazel asked with anticipation.
"There's a fragment of magical energy in his hand that shouldn't be there. It doesn't match up with the rest of his body. I would have to examine Miss Tepes as well, just to be sure, but this energy is definitely divine in nature."
"Divine, eh? Is it dangerous?"
"Not that I can tell. The energy inside is swirling about, but it's not building up in strength or dying down. It's just… there, like it's waiting for a trigger or something." She put her hands on her shapely hips and leaned on her right leg. "I've never seen a Gear do something like this before."
Since nobody seemed to have any idea of what the mark even was, Connor figured that asking if anyone knew this was possible was pointless. Even Valerie didn't seem to know, otherwise she would've said something. Which begged the next best question:
"Okay, so does anyone here have any idea of what the Sephiroth Graal actually does? I mean, it doesn't just mark everyone that so much as taps her on the shoulder, right?"
"No, it doesn't. I wish we could say we knew more, but that'd just be a lie," Tobio admitted. "The Graal is the most scarcely seen of all the currently known Sacred Gears, even among the Longinus. It's only manifested once every five hundred to six hundred years. Counting backwards from the present to the Last Supper in 33 A.D., that would make Valerie to be only the Graal's fourth wielder in the span of two thousand years."
"We do know that it has some restorative abilities, based on Valerie's story, but beyond that, it's anybody's guess. The last time someone wielded the Graal was around the late 1400s, so verified knowledge of its true power is sketchy at best. Those who possessed it never lived for very long." Azazel grimly shook his head. Speaking as an eyewitness, it seemed.
Connor looked at the mark again, irked by the news. Anything he could learn would be outdated by no less than a few centuries, and none of it would likely pertain to the piece now clinging to him like a parasite. He made no effort to hide his growing frustration until a hand rested on his shoulder.
"Now, don't give up just yet," the blonde magician said, giving a comforting smile. "I have an idea. When I first joined Grauzauberer, my mentor had me read a thesis written some time ago regarding the Longinus and their functions. I was in the middle of learning how to control my own, and I needed a baseline so I wouldn't accidentally send half of Europe into a new Ice Age."
Connor blinked. "W– you have a Longinus, too?"
"Mm-hm! I'd give you a demonstration, but I need a lit~tle more space for it," she teased.
'That's number three. By the Root, am I gonna meet everybody with one of these things before I die?!'
"I'll ask our acting chairman if I could take a look at that thesis again. He probably still has it somewhere in his personal library. And don't worry, I won't mention you. I'll just be asking about the Graal."
"At what cost?" His quick response caused her to blink.
"Pardon?"
"How much will it cost me to get this information?"
"Well, how much is it worth to you?" she countered with her own question.
"I would prefer if it didn't cost me an arm and a leg, but I do have some… potential research material that you might be interested in. Maybe even your chairman, if they're into the bizarre and grotesque."
If there was one thing in the world that any spellcaster could count on to bolster their case, be they a magician or a magus, the promise of potentially new magic research material never failed. Sure enough, a twinkle of intrigue bloomed in her eye, though she kept a straight face.
"And what would that be?"
"Remains from a creature that will never be seen in this world again. That's all I'll tell you. I want to see if this thesis is real before I commit to a barter."
"Oh, it's real. But the critical question here is if it will help find out anything."
"Well, that'll be my bridge to cross." He tapped on his marked hand to punctuate.
She thought about it for a moment, then smiled. "Alright. You've got a deal. Now, if everyone is fine here, I should go check on Miss Tepes."
"Tymael will show you the way." Azazel directed. Lavinia nodded and, with a polite bow, excused herself from the exam room. The Governor General then turned to Connor and gave a lopsided grin.
"Never a dull moment with you, is there?"
Much as the magus hated to agree, he couldn't argue.
Elsewhere, Issei Hyoudou sat on a comfy chair in his room at the Gremory family's mountain retreat. He stared up at the moon, facing opposite the room's luxurious bed and silently reveled in the calming radiance of moonlight.
Five days remained of the ORC's ten-day training trip, and tensions were rightly high. This upcoming rating game would probably be the most important one in Rias' life, and not simply because it would be her first.
Rias had called everyone to the ORC clubroom last Sunday for a meeting to discuss some important news. It was there that he was introduced to Grayfia, an absolute bombshell of a maid in service to Rias' older brother, who declared her position as a mediator between Rias and another high-class Devil that had yet to arrive. While they waited, Rias explained the situation.
She was set to marry another high-class Devil in a purely political marriage to unite their respective families through… pure-blooded ties or something that Issei really didn't understand nor care for. The idea of her getting married for political expediency was beyond terrible-a sentiment shared by all of the other ORC members. According to Grayfia, the arrangement was made before Rias was ever born, and it was only after meeting her supposed betrothed that Issei understood just how truly messed up it all was.
Riser Phenex, Rias' groom-to-be, showed up 'fashionably late,' but made up for his tardiness by quickly making a complete jackass of himself. From the moment he appeared, the snobbish jerk acted like he was already married to Rias and treated everyone but Grayfia as inferior beings. At one point, he even threatened to harm Rias' servants to make her go back with him to the Underworld. The maid's intervention made him back down from that, but she made no effort to put a stop to his other arrogant shenanigans.
For a first impression of high-class Devil conduct, this whole thing was a really poor showing to Issei.
Riser's biggest offense, however, came when he summoned his own peerage at the tail end of the meeting. His entourage was comprised from left to right of nothing but women and, in a show of total disrespect, he shamelessly made out with and groped at least two of them, just to draw a reaction out of Rias! What kind of prick gleamed satisfaction from doing shit like that in front of people?! Sure, Issei wanted a harem of his own, but he sure as hell wasn't going to act like that toward anyone in it!
After an embarrassingly brief scuffle regarding Riser's behavior, it was put forward by Grayfia to hold a rating game that would determine the outcome of the matter. If Rias won, the marriage contract between her and Riser would be voided. If Riser won, the marriage would proceed immediately.
With that in mind, the ORC took a leave of absence from the academy for ten days to prepare. In the eyes of its newest member, it seemed that everyone in the group had greatly improved since then.
Everyone except for himself.
He looked down at his left hand and frowned.
The others all had their talents and their powers, but what did he have? Just some stupid one-shot of a Gear called Twice Critical! Even before the training trip, he'd tried for weeks to get a response from the thing, but he couldn't get it beyond the initial stage: a clunky red gauntlet with a green jewel and two golden spikes on his left wrist. He hadn't made any sort of real progress beyond getting a single boost from the thing in spars with Kiba or Koneko.
As a result of this apparent dead end, Rias had decided that, instead of focusing efforts on his Gear, he should direct his attention to building up the basics; strength, magic, endurance and others. He had a feeling the new regimen was just to help keep his mind off of other things but, to her credit, it worked.
He could now hit harder than before, was able to tank a few good hits, and the miniscule amount of magical energy he possessed upon his reincarnation had grown. While a far cry from a Super Devil, at least now he wasn't the pathetic scrub that got the wind knocked out of him from a single hit by Riser's weakest Pawn.
Even so, with all the improvements he'd made, he feared that it wasn't enough. He was little more than the average low-class Devil now; nothing spectacular or, quite literally, game-changing.
"Maybe it'd be better if I just… didn't participate at all," he muttered dejectedly, holding his head in his right hand.
He wanted to tell that to Rias, but he was terrified of what she would say. Hell, what would the others say? Would they all call him a coward for not even trying? Would they be understanding and let him sit by while they fought a four-to-one battle? Surely not! They needed everyone they could get to even the odds, but… but if all they had was a fifth wheel like him, what was the point? What difference would he make?
In the time that he'd spent with his new friends and fellow Devils, he'd come to understand something about himself. It had become abundantly clear to him, having thrown everything he had into the training and garnered so little results against the others.
More than he hated Riser, he hated feeling useless.
Getting up from the chair, he dragged his feet to the bed, threw back the covers and climbed under with a tired sigh.
He just wanted to do something, anything, to help! Was that so wrong?!
Such thoughts were the last on his mind before he drifted to sleep.
…
When he opened his eyes again, he wasn't in his assigned room at the mountain retreat. In fact, he had no idea where he was.
The bed and everything that had been around him was gone, and all he could see was fire. Walls of flame taller than his house in Kuoh loomed over him, blocking out the sky. The constrictive heat coming off those flames was all but ripping the breathable air right out of his lungs.
"Wha… What is this?"
"Any sane being would normally call a place like this 'hell,' don't you think?" a bodiless voice questioned, seeming to echo all around him over the roaring flames. "It's not terribly cozy, but it's home, and it's been so long since I've had a guest."
Issei was one push away from panicking. "Wh-Who are y–?!"
"Who am I?" someone spoke from behind him. Issei turned to look, and recoiled upon seeing… himself, standing in a gap between the flames wearing nothing but a pair of black boxing shorts.
It was him, but it barely looked anything like him. This version was… ripped! Absolutely jacked! Not like those freaky, juiced-up American bodybuilders he saw in magazine corner stalls, but holy shit! If this impostor were to walk into Kuoh Academy, he'd have to drive a bus just to haul all the girls home with him!
Muscles that he'd only ever seen on manga characters decorated the doppelgänger's lean body like tattoos on a yakuza. There wasn't an ounce of fat to be seen anywhere on him. He also looked to be slightly taller than Issei, and his skin tone only slightly darker. To top it off, unlike the real Issei's dark brown orbs, this one possessed vibrant green eyes. The look he was giving Issei seemed to bore right into his soul.
"Think of me as a mirror," the false 'Issei' cryptically spoke, "whose purpose is to show you what your own eyes don't see just yet."
The real Issei didn't respond. Even under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have understood what a statement like that meant. Here, it just seemed outright bizarre.
Both Hyoudous stared at one another for several seconds –one baffled, the other calm– before the 'reflection' broke his stone-faced visage with a toothy grin. Wait… those were fangs!
"The look on your face."
The false Issei threw his head back and let out a bellowing laugh, before his form was consumed in a vortex of fire. Even still, he continued, the voice growing deeper, louder and turning almost inhuman. At the apex of the raucous laughter, a huge, reptilian arm slammed down in front of Issei, sending him sprawling backwards. Covered in red scales and bearing claws as long as his torso, the appendage was more than enough to flatten him with one careless step.
Following the arm to its origin, Issei looked up and saw…
A dragon. A massive, red dragon.
Standing taller than anything Issei had ever seen up close, coated in scales of a deeper crimson than Rias' hair, the mythical monster was as awe-inspiring as it was terror-inducing. Its scales seemed to reflect the light cast by the surrounding flames, making it appear for a brief moment that the creature itself was composed of living fire. Large horns were fixed regally atop its snout and around its head like a crown, and the same green eyes that were once looking straight at him were now staring down at him like he were an insect.
"That always gets the new ones," the same booming voice from before echoed with amusement out of the dragon's fanged maw. "Sorry about that, couldn't resist. But in all seriousness, I think it's about time that you and I spoke face-to-face, hatchling."
The dragon spread its colossal wings and gave a single flap. The winds thrown about by this act buffered the teen while snuffing out the flames around the pair. That terrible heat and the cracklings of rampant fire were suddenly dispelled, replaced only by silence, and the two beings were left surrounded by nothing but darkness.
Never in his short life did Issei feel so incredibly small.
…
(1): I've got a link on my profile to the Command Seal, for those who want to see it.
…
It's long overdue, but there it is.
Funny story: My editors told me that the previous chapter's fight scene loosely reminded them of some scenes from the 1988 film Die Hard, so I watched it over the Christmas break on their recommendation. That was my first viewing, and I can't believe I spent so many years without seeing it. A bit of an unorthodox Christmas movie, but what an absolute gem of an action film! If you haven't already, you should see it, too.
Anyway, I went ahead and gave another update on all the previous chapters in addition to this new one (boy, did that take a while). Give a look through them and tell me what you think. A bunch of little detail fixes, nothing overt, so I hope that they address some previous concerns and make the story seem more polished.
Once again, thank you all for sticking with this story despite everything.
If you enjoyed what you read, leave a favorite, a follow or a review to let me know. Any advice or support that you could give would be greatly appreciated. If you'd like to take a shot at the challenge listed in chapter 1, send me a PM, I'd love to hear your thoughts on it.
As always, thank you for reading!